


Blunderball

by jdale



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, American Mafia, Car Chases, F/M, Humor, International Fanworks Day 2021, James Bond Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdale/pseuds/jdale
Summary: A trust-fund kid and an electrical engineer take on the Mafia. It…doesn’t quite go according to plan.
Relationships: Agnarr & Mattias (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Blunderball

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Secret Life Of Punzie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920103) by [mattanimaniac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattanimaniac/pseuds/mattanimaniac), [SapphicaWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicaWrites/pseuds/SapphicaWrites). 



> Almost as soon as I read Chapter 8 of _Secret Life_ , it occurred to me that the “Agnarr rescues stripper!Iduna” event mentioned as part of the backstory of that fic would make a good vehicle for a Bond parody, and it wound up being one of those plot bunnies that just would not leave me alone until I wrote it.

Agnarr pulled the door of his condo shut, shrugged off his jacket, and took a seat on the couch. “I need your help, Matt.”

Mattias raised one eyebrow. “With what?”

“You remember that girl down at the Ahtohallan?” Agnarr asked.

Mattias facepalmed. “For crying out loud, man, how many times do I have to tell you that _she is not in love with you?_ She’s a stripper. She treats everyone like that. That’s what she’s paid to do.”

“It’s not about that, Matt,” Agnarr told him. “Well, not completely, anyway. Look, you remember I told you a month or two ago the place came under new ownership?”

“Yes,” Mattias said promptingly.

“The new ownership ain’t treating those girls right,” Agnarr explained. “I noticed it about a week after the change of ownership, but I had to be sure I wasn’t just imagining things.”

“And this involves me how?” Mattias asked.

“We’ve got to get that girl out of there!” Agnarr said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You don’t need my help for that!” Mattias shouted in frustration. “You got eight figures in the bank, man! Just buy the place out!”

“The current owners have only had the place a month or two,” Agnarr pointed out. “I doubt they’d be interested in selling. Besides, I don’t know anything about running a business! I’d probably run the place straight into the ground!”

Mattias sighed. “I’m probably going to regret asking this, but what exactly do you have in mind here?”

“There was a sign on the door last night. They’re hiring bouncers,” Agnarr explained. “You get the job and find out when you and she are both scheduled to be on shift at the same time.”

“Okay, what’s this girl’s name?” Mattias asked.

“All I have is her stage name. Fanny Wilde,” Agnarr replied.

Mattias facepalmed again. “What is it with the names these people pick?”

“The place caters to the high-roller crowd, or at least it did under the previous ownership,” Agnarr answered. “All the performers use Bond girl-type names.”

“Of course they do,” Mattias muttered.

“Anyhow,” Agnarr continued, “while you and she are both on shift, I go in as a client and book a private session with her. I explain to her that I’ve got money and I’m willing to help her get out and get back on her feet. If she takes me up on the offer, I’ll signal to you, and you create a distraction to allow the two of us to slip out unnoticed.”

“You realize you can’t just go in there and tell her all that, right?” Mattias asked. “If the new ownership really is mistreating the performers like you seem to think, they probably have the private rooms bugged to stop the performers from telling anyone.”

“I’ll come up with something,” Agnarr said. “Look, get the job, figure out when we’re doing this, alright? Leave me to handle getting it across to Wilde.”

* * *

Mattias pulled the door shut behind him. “No dice.”

Agnarr frowned. “You didn’t get the job?”

Mattias shook his head. “We got a bigger problem, though.”

“What’s that?” Agnarr asked.

“The place is a front for the Luccheses,” Mattias told him.

Agnarr’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Those bastards killed my sister. You really think I would joke about this?” Mattias pointed out.

Agnarr sighed. “Alright, what now?”

“I’m game for going ahead with it if you are,” Mattias said, “but I want to make sure you understand we’re gonna be making some powerful enemies if we do.”

“Well, if you want to make an omelette, you’ve got to break a few eggs,” Agnarr declared. “What’s our next move?”

Mattias pulled a cell phone out of his jacket pocket and flipped it to Agnarr. “Burners,” he explained, holding up an identical one of his own. “If we ever need to talk about this over the phone, we use these.”

Agnarr nodded. “Got it.”

“Now, I did manage to get a look at a schedule that the manager had left lying on his desk while he was interviewing me,” Mattias continued. “Our next windows of opportunity are Friday and Saturday from 10 P.M. to close.”

“We do it Friday, then,” Agnarr decided. “I want to get her out as soon as we can.”

Mattias nodded. “I thought you might say that. Now, next thing: I also managed to catch a glimpse of the security setup. They’ve got audio and video surveillance in the private rooms.”

Agnarr harrumphed. “Well, so much for passing notes.”

Mattias nodded in agreement. “Looks like you’ll have to rely on some good old-fashioned doublespeak. There is, however, one thing that very much works to our advantage: the model of fire alarm they have installed has a known defect that I believe I can exploit to trigger a false alarm and have it appear accidental.”

“So that’s our distraction,” Agnarr said. “You duck out, use this exploit to set off the fire alarm, and we slip out with Wilde in the resulting chaos.”

“Right,” Mattias confirmed.

Agnarr nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, sounds like we’re ready to go.”

“Not quite,” Mattias corrected. “You’re gonna need a rental car.”

Agnarr frowned. “A rental car?”

“If they see us slipping out in the commotion, we’re likely to get shot at,” Mattias pointed out. “You really want to expose your own car to that?”

“Hmm, fair point,” Agnarr admitted. “It has to be something high-performance, though, if we may need to get out of there in a hurry.”

“Agreed,” Mattias said.

“Alright, I’ll look into it tomorrow, see what I can find,” Agnarr told him.

* * *

Mattias pulled the ringing burn phone out of his pocket and answered it. “Yeah, go ahead.”

 _“I’ve got the rental,”_ Agnarr reported. _“It’s an Aston Martin DB9. Hey, I had a thought. You know that fog machine I have up in the closet?”_

Mattias sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes.”

 _“I was thinking maybe we could rig it up as a smoke screen generator in case we need it,”_ Agnarr told him.

“I knew you were gonna say that,” Mattias muttered in frustration.

_“Can it be done?”_

“Did you get the rental insurance?” Mattias asked.

 _“Yeah, I got it,”_ Agnarr confirmed.

“Then maybe,” Mattias told him. “I’ll have to see the electrical system before I can say for sure.”

* * *

“Well, it’s doable in theory,” Mattias pronounced, “but it would be a pretty heavy draw on the battery when the smoke screen is being operated. I think our best bet is to put in a second battery just to run the fog machine.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Agnarr remarked.

“Now, the fog machine you have up there is designed to run on mains power, not battery,” Mattias continued, “so we’ll need an inverter to get the battery power into a form the fog machine can use. We’ll also need mounting brackets to keep all of this equipment from sliding around, and I’ll need to rewire the trunk latch controller so it can be opened while the car is moving.”

“The remote for the fog machine will still work even though it’s in the passenger compartment and the machine itself is in the trunk, right?” Agnarr asked.

Mattias nodded. “Right.”

“And you can have that done in time for Friday?”

Mattias nodded again. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

* * *

Agnarr backed the DB9 into a parking spot outside the entrance to the Ahtohallan Club.

“Now, if we should happen to run into trouble on the way out,” Agnarr said, straightening his bowtie in the mirror on the back of the sun visor, “I’ve concealed a handgun in the glove box and another one in the center console. I’m hoping we won’t have to use them, but they’re there just in case.”

Mattias opened the glovebox. On seeing the weapon inside, he turned to Agnarr incredulously and said, “This is a Desert Eagle!”

“Yeah, the shop where I bought it didn’t carry Walthers,” Agnarr explained.

“Do you realize how hard these things are to control?” Mattias asked.

Agnarr shrugged. “Point and shoot. It’s just like laser tag.”

Mattias shot him a dirty look but made no further comment, instead choosing to change the subject. “I still don’t get why we have to wear tuxes.”

“Come on, have some fun with it!” Agnarr told him. “It’s like we’re being James Bond for a night.”

“No, _you’re_ James Bond. I’m Q,” Mattias corrected.

Agnarr raised one eyebrow curiously. “You jealous?”

“No, I’m an electrical engineering major,” Mattias replied matter-of-factly. “Being Q is my job. Besides, remind me again who set up that fog machine in the trunk?”

“Well, tonight, you’re James Bond,” Agnarr said firmly. “We have a cover to keep, remember?”

Mattias harrumphed. “Right.”

Reaching the door, they paid the cover charge and made their way inside. While Agnarr arranged his private session, Mattias’ eyes discreetly flitted about the room, confirming the locations of the club’s smoke detectors.

“Alright, looks like we’ve got about twenty minutes to kill before showtime,” Agnarr said once he had finished making the arrangements.

Mattias nodded silently in acknowledgement, and Agnarr began guiding him over to the bar.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mattias muttered in a low tone.

“We have to keep up appearances,” Agnarr reminded him. “If they see us just hanging about and not ordering anything, they might get suspicious.”

“Evening, gentlemen,” the bartender greeted them before Mattias could respond.

“Belvedere martini,” Agnarr ordered. “Shaken, not stirred.”

The bartender nodded before turning to Mattias. “And for you, sir?”

Mattias sighed. “Woodford Reserve, neat.”

The drinks arrived a moment later. Once they had, Mattias and Agnarr stood from the bar and made their way over to a pair of armchairs in a location that gave a good view of the entrances to the private rooms. The next twenty minutes passed all too quickly for Mattias’ liking, and he was soon bidding Agnarr luck as the other man made his way over to the private room.

Once Agnarr was out of earshot, Mattias let out a heavy sigh. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, buddy.”

* * *

“So,” Wilde said as she entered the room with a sultry smile, “we meet again.”

“Indeed we do,” Agnarr replied.

“Usual?” Wilde asked.

Agnarr nodded. “Is it just me, or do your outfits get more colorful every time I see you?” he asked, casting a significant look at the poorly disguised bruise on her arm.

Wilde shrugged. “I live to please.”

Agnarr raised one eyebrow. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” Wilde responded as she began to move against him. “But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“All too well, Miss Wilde,” Agnarr confirmed.

“Where have you been, anyway?” Wilde asked. “I missed you last week.”

“Oh, just some travel for a business matter,” Agnarr explained.

“Anywhere interesting?”

Agnarr sent a long glance in the direction of the room’s security camera before replying, “Palermo.”

The corner of Wilde’s mouth curled in amusement. “Palermo? I don’t suppose you found time for any… _recreation_ on this business trip of yours?”

“I may have managed to squeeze in a few hours,” Agnarr replied noncommittally.

“And I trust you found my Sicilian counterparts just as pleasing as I?” Wilde asked.

Agnarr eyed her in mock reproach. “No one could be as pleasing as you, my dear Miss Wilde.”

Wilde quirked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Indeed it is,” Agnarr replied. Reaching into his pocket, he took out his wallet and made a show of sliding a $100 bill into her waistband. “And if you’re just as pleasing as I remember, there’ll be plenty more where that came from.”

Wilde grinned. “I look forward to it.”

* * *

Hearing the text-message alert go off, Mattias reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his burn phone. Two letters stared back at him from the screen: GO.

After sending back an acknowledgement, Mattias slid the phone back into his pocket and pulled out a handheld laser pointer. Holding it so that its body was concealed by his palm, Mattias pressed the activation button and surreptitiously wiggled the beam across the surface of the nearest smoke detector.

After doing this for a moment, he frowned. “That should have set it off,” he muttered to himself.

One of the club’s dancers approached him before he could ponder any further. “Can I get you another drink, darling?”

“Uh…not at the moment, thanks,” Mattias told her. “Perhaps when I get back from the restroom.”

The dancer smiled. “I’ll keep an eye out for you, darling.”

Nodding silently, Mattias quickly made his way to the restroom. After making certain that he was the only one inside, he pulled out the laser pointer again and aimed it at the smoke detector on the ceiling. When this, too, failed to trigger the fire alarm, he climbed up on the toilet seat and gently pried the detector loose from its mounting. Once he had done so, his frown deepened; only about half of the wires that should have been connected to the detector actually were.

“Now what?” he muttered.

Looking around the restroom, he spotted a fire extinguisher set into the wall behind a pane of glass.

“Well, so much for making it look accidental,” Mattias said, picking up the hammer on the wall and smashing in the glass.

Still the alarm remained silent. Mattias reached into the opening and lifted out the extinguisher. Still nothing.

“You’re kidding,” Mattias grumbled.

Tucking the extinguisher under one arm, Mattias left the restroom and set off in search of the alarm control panel. Locating it quickly, he used the butt end of the fire extinguisher to knock off the protective cover and then pressed the ‘drill’ button. Still nothing happened.

“Unbelievable,” Mattias muttered.

Setting down the extinguisher, he quickly darted to the nearest table, grabbed a butter knife, and darted back to the panel. He then slid the knife in between the panel facing and the wall, hoping to pry the facing off and gain access to the wiring.

He had just gotten it open when he heard a voice behind him. “Don’t move!”

Mattias looked over his shoulder to see one of the bouncers aiming an Uzi at his back.

“Back away from the wall, _slowly_ ,” the bouncer ordered.

Mattias initially made as if to comply, but then he suddenly spun around and shoved the alarm panel at the bouncer’s face. Reacting on instinct, the bouncer put his hands up to protect his face, dropping his gun in the process. As the wiring connected to the back of the alarm panel was torn free from the wall, the shrill tone of the fire alarm began to echo through the club.

“Finally! I was beginning to think the damn thing would _never_ go off!” Mattias said. He then tucked the fire extinguisher back under his arm and began working his way toward the exit.

* * *

“That’s our cue,” Agnarr told Wilde as the first blast of the fire alarm sounded. As they stepped out of the private room into the panic of the main floor, Agnarr added, “If we get separated, look for a silver Aston Martin!”

“Got it,” Wilde replied, and the pair began bobbing and weaving their way toward the exit.

Remarkably, they managed to get outside without too much trouble. As they were climbing into the car, however, they were spotted by another of the bouncers.

“We got a runner!” he shouted.

Agnarr swore. “Get down!” he ordered, shoving his key into the ignition.

Wilde wasted no time in doing so, crawling through into the small backseat and taking cover behind the front seats as the bouncers opened up with their Uzis. They fired for only a few seconds, however, before being engulfed in a cloud of white haze.

After a few more seconds, Mattias emerged from the cloud, tossing away the spent fire extinguisher as he threw open the DB9’s passenger door and climbed in.

Agnarr pressed a button on the fog machine’s remote control to start warming it up, then threw the car into gear and peeled out. The bouncers had recovered from Mattias’ fire-extinguisher attack by this time and opened fire on the fleeing trio once more, this time managing to shatter the rear window. As Agnarr turned the car out of the parking lot and onto the road, the bouncers piled into an SUV and gave chase.

“Well, don’t just sit there!” Agnarr told Mattias as they ducked another burst of fire. “Shoot back!”

With a heavy sigh, Mattias opened the glove compartment once more and took out the Desert Eagle concealed within. He then clicked off the safety, turned around in his seat, leveled the gun at the pursuing SUV, and fired. The recoil from the shot deflected the barrel upwards, causing the bullet to embed itself in the inside of the Aston Martin’s roof.

“Just like laser tag, huh?” Mattias asked, shooting Agnarr a dirty look.

Agnarr, however, was having his own problems. The tires squealed loudly as he threw the car into a turn, and as he tried to straighten up onto the cross street, the back end fishtailed out to the right, knocking a fire hydrant out of the ground.

“How does Bond make this look so fucking easy?” Agnarr shouted.

Mattias was prevented from responding as another burst of automatic fire from their pursuers forced him to duck. “How long until that fog machine is ready?”

Agnarr glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Another minute or so!”

“Maybe just keep going straight until then!” Mattias suggested.

Agnarr nodded. “Yeah, good idea!”

Mattias, meanwhile, turned around in his seat and raised the Desert Eagle once more. Aiming down slightly to account for the anticipated kick, he took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. A spray of sparks from the SUV’s left headlight told him he had found his mark.

“Nice shot!” Agnarr said, having seen the impact in the rearview mirror. “Alright, here goes!”

After a few seconds, Agnarr frowned. “I thought you said you rewired it so we could open the trunk while the car was moving!”

“I did!” Mattias said.

“Well, it’s not opening!” Agnarr shot back.

Mattias sighed and turned around in the seat again. “You, Miss…?”

“Wilde!”

Mattias facepalmed and shook his head. “No, your real name! Despite what 007 here might prefer, I refuse to call you by that ridiculous pseudonym!”

“Oh, um…it’s Iduna,” she replied.

“Okay, I need you to crawl into the back of the trunk and open the manual release!” Mattias told her.

“How do I do that?” Wilde—Iduna—asked.

Mattias sighed. “You see that little black loop on the top of the backseat? Pull up and toward you!”

Iduna did so, causing the left half of the backseat to fold down.

“Now crawl through all the way to the back of the trunk,” Mattias instructed. “You should see a glowing yellow T-shaped handle. Pull it toward you and push up on the inside of the trunk lid.”

Iduna disappeared into the trunk. A moment later, her voice carried out, “The handle won’t move!”

“What do you mean, it won’t move?” Mattias asked incredulously.

“I’m pulling on the yellow handle, and it won’t move!” Iduna repeated.

Mattias swore. “One of those potshots they took at us must’ve jammed the latch.”

“What do we do now?” Agnarr asked.

“Try to lose them by turning?” Mattias suggested nervously.

“Alright,” Agnarr said. “Be prepared to bail out and make a run for it if this goes down the tubes!”

As Agnarr threw the Aston Martin down the nearest side street, Mattias suddenly went rigid. “Switch with me!” he told Iduna.

“What are you thinking?” Agnarr asked.

“If I can unbolt the fog machine from the base of the trunk, we can blow it out the back window!” Mattias explained, already crawling through to the backseat.

As Mattias set to work, Iduna slid into the front passenger seat Mattias had vacated.

“Thank you,” she told Agnarr, taking the hand he had resting on the gearshift.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Agnarr replied. “We could still all wind up dead out of this.”

“No, thank you regardless,” Iduna insisted. “After the Luccheses bought out the old owners…let’s just say not all of us were comfortable being asked to do more than just dancing.”

Agnarr nodded solemnly. “I had suspected that might be the case.”

“So thank you,” Iduna repeated. “Thank you for caring, and thank you for actually doing something to help. Even if we do die.”

Agnarr grinned. “Well, glad I could be of service, my lady.”

Mattias’ hand emerged from the trunk and propped the fog machine up against the half of the backseat that remained in place. “Okay, go ahead with the smoke screen!”

Agnarr took hold of the remote control for the fog machine and held down the fog button. A plume of white smoke shot forth from the machine and billowed out the rear window that had been shot out earlier in the chase. He let the fog machine run for about a minute, then shut it off and turned down the next side street. Slowing to the speed limit, he zig-zagged up and down some of the smaller streets for a few minutes until it became apparent that they were no longer being followed.

With a grin, Agnarr turned around in the driver’s seat and called out the rear window, “See you at the barbeque, fellas!”

Iduna just looked at him. “See you at the barbeque?”

“Yeah, because they got smoked,” Agnarr explained.

Iduna groaned, burying her head in her hands. “You really need to work on your one-liners.”

“What?” Agnarr asked defensively. “That was good!”

Mattias shook his head in the backseat. “It really wasn’t, man. Trust me.”

Iduna patted him on the leg. “Don’t worry. It’ll take more than a few bad puns to scare me off.”

Agnarr smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“I thought it was because I’m a busty, leggy girl who’s not afraid to show off either of those attributes,” Iduna teased.

“And witty, too,” Agnarr added.

“I’m still back here, you know,” Mattias reminded them.

Agnarr turned to Iduna with a mischievous grin. “What say, my dear? Should we let him tag along or leave him to walk home?”

“He can come, this time, anyway,” Iduna replied with an identical grin. “As appealing as I might otherwise find the idea of sex in the back of an Aston Martin, the broken glass shards are a bit of a turn-off.”

“Alright,” Agnarr said, “let’s head back to my place, and then if you need anything, we can go get it in a car that still has all its windows. Sound like a plan?”

Iduna exhaled slowly. “Actually, anything I need can wait until morning.”

Agnarr nodded. “Home, then?”

Iduna smiled. “Home. I like the sound of that.”

Agnarr smiled back at her as he put the car in gear. “Home it is.”


End file.
